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Characters: Marie Kreutz, Alex Conklin, Miles, Costigan, Gene, and Pepper. Open if anyone else is interested.

Date: Anytime between February 8th to the 12th

Location: Various. (Okay like one specific and one various.)

Situation: Catch all for Memory event.

Warnings/Rating: Language, police chases, will add as needed.

Location 1 - House Spicy Iron Dragon

Marie had taken to spending all of her time (when she was "home", though she wasn't entirely comfortable with calling it that just yet, old habits die hard) squatting in the newly constructed pillow fort that took up quite a bit of the living room, baking up a storm in the kitchen, or hiding in her room.

This particular morning she hadn't slept in, she got up when she was supposed to and had taken to sneaking into the kitchen for some tea and toast. She was going to do some proper digging around for recipes and substitutions today, but luckily she had enough ideas on where to go and who to ask that she felt more encouraged than anxious.

Location 2 - Various locations, feel free to specify one if you have a preference.

Marie had found herself strongly considering asking for help with starting a bakery and decided that before she just jumped the gun (she internally mused and wondered when did she grow up so quickly, despite being 28 years old - give or take, time was funny in these places), she should get a list of items she wanted to make and sell created. Most of the things she decided on already where easily doable but some ideas that she had pitched to her, were a little more complicated with the different foods that were here compared to her own world. She had later decided to take some chances on some odd fruit she had tried once or twice and thought would work well in scones or muffins during her normal quick glance at the market stalls. But, she knew she would probably have to ask some of the cafe owners how using them worked out and for some more ideas.

By the late afternoon, after one long comb through the library and a cramped hand from handwriting possible ideas and her trip in the market took an hour more than planned, she is gathering up her bags from the different cafes and stalls in the market and takes a break at one of the many cafes and nurses a cup of tea while looking over her notes about ingredients and possible substitutions. Her next few stops were going to be the most popular places she knew about then another trip to the market to pick up what items she was told about (if she was successful in inquiring about such things).

She can't help but yawn slightly and shut the notebook in front of her.

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Pepper was always a fan of sleeping in, but sometimes she couldn't. Work or training occasionally demanded that she get up early (although the dojo was closed for the month, so visits were usually later in the day when she was free). The redhead wandered downstairs, yawning and rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

She smiled tiredly when she spotted Marie in the kitchen. "Oooh, you made tea. You are the best," Pepper announced. "Mind if I have some?"

"Morning."

Marie might almost blush at that.

"I'm not the best," She glances away and begins to rummage around for a clean mug. "I'm just doing what everyone else who normally gets up before me would do."

Marie had a tendency to be the last one up (or was one of the last) and moving in the mornings even with a set alarm. She just was used to stirring at ungodly hours during the night and having to remain awake until the early morning when something was amiss. It meant that in her old world she had learned to gather any extra rest whenever she could. For her to be up a "normal" hour, that was sure to lead to a question or two, so she decided to fend it off just as quickly.

"What kind do you want? I...I think what I grabbed was peach tea. It's sweet anyway."

"And if Tony or Gene had made tea and there was some when I woke up, I'd call them the best, too," Pepper declared, yawning again. "Surprised to see you up early."

It was more of a statement than a question, and Pepper didn't look like she cared much about getting an answer.

"Peach sounds good. I might make some eggs, want some?"

"Well, at least that's being fair, I guess." She raises an eyebrow at that, of course her tone teasing even if she looks serious, "Well, alright. I'll get the peach tea out."

Of course, Marie wouldn't have given any answer if it had been a real question and not something that was more of a statement.

"Eggs? I don't know. I need a moment..."

She is used to eating light in the morning, but after reminding herself of her plans, that maybe preparing for not getting to eat until she gets back to the house was a good idea, she then nods.

"Mmkay. I'll make enough for two. Goes well with toast, anyway," Pepper replied once Marie had made up her mind. She went to the fridge and opened it, extracting eggs and butter and set them on the counter. Once she pulled out a pan from one of the cabinets and put it on the stove, she got to cooking.

"Any special occasion for being up early or did you just feel like it today?" Pepper wanted to know, stifling a yawn.

Gene poked his head out of the pillow fort at the smell of tea.

Yes. He had gone to the pillow fort in the middle of the night to be alone with his trauma. Deal with it. Look, he's having a bit of a Time right now.

"Oh. Good morning."

"Oh, uh, hey. Morning."

She then paused after turning around at the sight of Gene. Had he been hiding out in the pillow fort? He also, though she wondered if she was imagining it somewhat, seemed tired.

Then she put the mug in her hands down and went to reach for one of the others.

"Um, want some tea?"

Gene nodded. "Yeah, thanks." He noticed his hair was mussed, and smoothed it back down. It didn't really help.

He stood up, massaging one of his deltoids (ow ow crick in the neck ow) and walked over. "I must have fallen asleep down here."

She nodded and went to work getting the mug pulled out and getting the hot water and tea bags out.

"...Maybe we should put a cot or something in there. Or at least something more comfortable than floor and blankets."

She frowns. "So, what kind of tea?"

Costigan's out searching in a casual way. The undercover could probably stand to have more food in his house, but he's long fallen out of the habit of cooking for himself and has been eating out with what little money he's making from the odd job. Instead, he looks for anything that might be familiar, trying to reclaim old memories and kill time out in the city as a form of relaxation. As if he knows what relaxation is.

He spots a familiar face a few stalls down, making his way over to Marie as he reminds himself not to get too attached to the woman. This isn't home.

"Find any decent coffee?" He asks with a chuckle to make it clear that he's teasing. Costigan slides his hands from his pockets and holds them out as an offering. "You want me to help you carry something?"

She would get that kind of reminder. This wasn't the first time she ever ended up in a place where people could vanish in the blink of an eye and definitely not the first time where getting attached to someone ended up being not the best idea.

That was why she refused to answer any of her housemates questions about where she was going and why she was even up as early as she had been today. Even if two of them were familiar faces during her first stay here. Sometimes people even looked the same and had the same names, but weren't people you actually knew. There was still a sense, though she never let it show, of unease that she had about everything being on the turtle entailed.

"Uh, hey."

She looked a bit surprised when he started speaking. She had been in thought until that point.

"Oh, right. Coffee. Yeah, actually, I think I may have some something, just there's some good news, bad news about it."

Then she realizes that he was only teasing her and she tries to play it off as she knew and at first her tone is more unsure but by the end she thinks she manages something believable, well slightly more so, "Really, um, it's more like the bad news is that I can't promise it'll be any good once I'm done with it... of course, maybe it might be so good that I should pretend its bad."

Marie pauses at the offer then shakes her head. The bags were a bit heavier than she would have liked, but it was only her own damn fault. She readjusts a couple of them that were hanging off of her arms.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really. I'm used to having to do it myself."

That was enough to remind her of having to navigate the overly crowded and bustling marketplace in a still unfamiliar and nearly suffocating humidity and heat. Trying to fumble with a currency that she had only first seen just a mere day ago.

Of course, she could tell from the crowds that it was nearly time to start back. She couldn't be out for too long on her own and that made having to get everything even more difficult than it needed to be and she always came back to the small cottage missing more than a few things, but in the end he was never all that angry about it or even the slightest annoyed. If nothing else, he viewed it as something doable, good in case the wrong person was around, watching, waiting, or the worst case approaching, ready to do something worse than just talk. It was probably just easier to ditch a few things and get them later on at another market.

Just one or two more stalls. She knew were out of tea, at least coming back with that would feel like a good, not wasted trip, and some fruit would be good for when it got to hot to want to eat much.

Then overtime, she began to find a routine, a rhythm in going to the market in the late mornings. It got easier to figure out the paper bills and coins in her hand and to ask for things. She even "befriended" (she was using the term lightly - she knew getting close to others was bad, impossible to do.) a few people who owned stalls, or at least could speak with them and often held small conversations while shopping.

But she never once wandered around with another person or asked for help carrying things back "home".

So it wasn't as if what she was saying was a complete lie, maybe not because the bags were heavy - usually she carried much less - but she was used to having to go it alone, at least most of the time.

Costigan's eyebrows pulled together with the stress of having witnessed yet another foreign memory. It wasn't the first, but he was grateful that it seemed to be the least innocuous of those he'd seen so far. He forced himself to relax and ignored the random memory, not keen on prying and not wanting Marie to feel uncomfortable.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said instead, noticing that he interrupted some thought and socially aware enough to understand her rejection might be a subtle cue. Costigan hovered there, waiting for her to confirm that she wished to be alone or giving her the chance to invite him to stay.

He stared out the glass wall of the office, waiting, glancing with paranoia at the other officers there. He was in street clothes, talking to a Detective in a suit. Most of the others were in suits as well, sitting around in cubicles and chatting about the great catch of the white whale that was Costigan's old boss. The Staties never had much tact.

"I'm all done being a cop, alright?" Costigan replied quietly. "I just want my money and I want to go home."

"Alright. That'd be the best thing, I think, for everybody," Sullivan agreed, his Boston accent readily apparent. "It's just- I can't get into your file unless I have your password."

"It's my name. William Costigan Jr. They gave it to me in case I had to explain myself to someone like you."

"It's your name," Sullivan laughed. Costigan turned his attention back to the Detective in the chair behind the desk, a face that might be familiar to Marie ~~Matt Damon~~, though the posture and attitude were all wrong. There was nothing hyper aware or selfless about the man. "Alright. Unreal. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. Listen, Bill, I gotta run this in the other room. This computer's gettin' all friggin' blue-y on me. Give me two minutes. I'll have you out of here in no time."

Sullivan stood from the desk and walked out of the office, leaving Costigan alone in the room to wait some more.

The memory distracted the former undercover and he scowled as his attention was restored to the present moment, hoping she didn't see it too.

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House Spicy Iron Dragon

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Location 2: Market

Re: Location 2: Market

So sorry for delay; let me know if you'd like an edit